


spring 2003, muddy trainers and scratched up knees

by brzbloks



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Childhood Friends, Fluff, Gen, Playgrounds, Sad Bokuto Koutarou, akaashi best boy, theyre so sweet n wholesome pls protect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:35:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25786717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brzbloks/pseuds/brzbloks
Summary: “are you okay?” asks keiji. he knows the boy isn’t okay, but he’s not about to tell the other kid that he’s been watching him for five whole minutes. watching him play on a seesaw, which was built for the use of two people, alone.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji & Bokuto Koutarou, Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 5
Kudos: 56





	spring 2003, muddy trainers and scratched up knees

**Author's Note:**

> snotty, greasy kids and complete cuteness- brought to you by breezeblocks and bokuaka.  
> enjoy!!

theres a boy sat on the seesaw. 

he’s big, keiji thinks. chubby arms, chubby thighs, even chubbier cheeks. baby fat. tons of it. especially on his face. yeah, his face is covered in tears as of now. globs of salty water leaking out of the boy’s eyes. the boy looks around keiji’s age. he looks around for his mother, she’s nestled on the bench with another lady, back turned to keiji. probably gossiping about the newest neighbourhood scandal. not that keiji knows anything of his mother’s gossiping habits, good kids don’t eavesdrop. keiji sits up from the corner of the sandbox he huddled in, he was building a castle. it wasn’t really a castle, more like two mounds of sand clumped together. they looked like buttcheeks to keiji. he learnt that word from a boy in class, the same boy who laughed at keiji for sitting alone during break. jerk. 

back to the present keiji takes another look at the boy. he sits on the other side of the playground however the mix of snot and tears on his features could be noticed no matter how far you stood from him. he probably doesn’t see keiji, keijis been looking at him through the gaps in the climbing frame in front of him. his hairs black, like keiji’s. maybe even darker, it droops down on his face, clinging to the wetness of the boys’s face. messy. brushing the sand from his shorts, keiji makes his way to the boy. akaashi keiji is not shy by any means, commonly mistaken for timid and unconfident. he’s just a reserved kid who keeps his thoughts to himself mostly. it gets tiring constantly being pestered by adults to speak when he’s content with just sitting in a corner with a nice book. keiji pauses. he peeks from the corner of the climbing frame. the kid stood up from the seesaw. he wiped his nose with the back of his hands and stomped over to the opposite seesaw seat. 

oh. 

the occupied half of the seesaw weighs down, bumping against the concrete ground. he gets up again, moves to the other side. sits. the weight drops again. he repeats it. shifting from each end of the seesaw again and again, a total of 6 times -keiji counts- until he slumps over. knees drawn to his chest, quiet sniffles escaping every now and then. 

“are you okay?” asks keiji. he knows the boy isn’t okay, but he’s not about to tell the boy that he’s been watching him for five whole minutes. watching him play on a seesaw, which was built for the use of two people. alone. 

the boy looks up, he stares long and hard at keiji. golden eyes rimmed with even more tears, threatening to spill. 

“you’re not okay, are you?” 

the boy shakes his head, choked hiccup escaping his throat. keiji clicks his tongue, his sandal clad feet bringing him to the empty seesaw seat. his side of the playground equipment weighing down. keiji cranes his neck to look up at the boy, the latter’s side of the seesaw now towering over keiji.

“what’s your name?”

the kid seemed surprised at keiji’s question, sniffles stopping abruptly. he lifts his head from his knees and lets his legs down, limbs either side of the seat. the movement caused his side of the seesaw to drift down, lifting keiji up in the air.

“b-bokuto” the boy said in a strained voice.

“bokuto?”

keiji drops down.

“b-bokuto koutarou!” koutarou exclaimed, his hands grasping at the handle, plummeting down again. the rusty creaking of the seesaw drowning out mindless hollers emitting from the boys over at the football field. koutarou leans forward and gawks at keiji. he’s wearing a doraemon tshirt, dried snot seeping into the fabric. 

“what’s your name?” bokuto asks. 

“akaashi keiji.” 

they ask each other questions, bokuto doing most of the speaking. each answer followed by the weight of the seesaw lifting up or down.

“How old are you ‘kaashi?” up  
“7. how old are you, koutarou-kun?” down  
“8, i’m older than you!” up “what’s your favourite animal?” down  
“horned owl.” up  
“no way! me too! you’re so cool kaashi!” down  
“thank you koutarou-kun” up

the questions went on and on. koutarou’s tears dried up, long forgotten. keiji learnt many things about koutarou. koutarou’s favourite food is yakiniku, his star sign is virgo, his favourite tvshow is digimon frontier. koutarou has 3 siblings, his father works overseas, his mother lets him walk to the park on his own.

“why were you crying?” 

the seesaw stops to a halt, metal creaks pausing abruptly. keiji looks up at koutarou, he can distinguish the glassy surface of koutarou’s eyes, tears bundling up at the corners. koutarou is looking at something . keiji follows the other’s gaze, eyes landing on the field where a group of boys were chasing a football. loud hollers and giggles emerged from that field drowning out the noise of keiji and koutarou’s stifled breaths. a quick glance around the playground makes keiji realise that they’re alone, when did that happen? he instantly spots his mother chatting animatedly to the same woman as before, she probably hadn’t even noticed keiji had disappeared from the sandbox. keiji returns his focus back to the older boy, the latter already starting at keiji, big doe eyes locked with keiji’s heavy lidded ones.

oh. 

“did those boys upset you, koutarou-kun?” 

koutarou nodded slowly, hands gripping the metal bar, knuckles white. 

“What did they say?” keiji asks softly, trying his best to not let his curiosity shine through.

“they um, my friends-“ koutarou clears his throat “I came here with them, to play football and they, they” koutarou wipes his nose on his doraemon t-shirt.

keiji catches on. “they didn’t let you play with them?” it’s more of a statement than it is a question, keiji doesn’t want to jump to conclusions however. The older boy nods slowly, chubby cheeks puffed out in a quivering pout. keiji doesn’t pry further, not until the confusion settles in. koutarou is a sweet boy, he’s been nothing but friendly to keiji, he didn’t make fun out of keiji’s quietness- infact he did most of the talking for the younger boy. why would anyone not want to play with koutarou? the question irked keiji. 

“why?” 

koutarou faced keiji. his voice came out croaky 

“they- they said i was too loud and too- too rough and that-“ he wiped the rim of his eyes with the heel of his palms “they- theyre my friends though-“

keiji leans forward and grabs koutarou’s wrists, pulling his palms down from his snotty face. 

“they aren’t your friends, friends don’t do that’ 

and it’s true. keiji may not be experienced in these things, he payed more attention to his books than he did actual people but he’s smart enough to know that friends don’t leave you sitting on a seesaw with a face full of tears. friends are supposed to be nice and help and let you play with them and- 

“what about your friends keiji?” koutarou asks, he’s smiling now. a bittersweet thing. 

keiji looks away, refusing to meet koutarou’s hopeful gaze. he lets out a shaky breath 

“i don’t have any friends.”

koutarou heaved forward, now taking keiji’s wrists in his palms. koutarou’s hands were sweaty, greasy even. but they held an unfamiliar warmth, they weren’t slender and manicured like his mother’s neither were they large and calloused like his father’s. they were warm, adults never felt this warm, koutarou did however. koutarou’s eyes were blown wide, maybe laced with pity or humour. keiji couldn’t tell. 

“how can someone like you not have any friends ‘kaashi? you’re so cool! and you like owls and-“ the older boy glances down at keiji’s wrists in his hold. He loosens his grip and keiji’s wrists fall to his sides. keiji flushes, he'd never been called cool before. The word sounded foreign being directed at someone like keiji. 

“I-“ keiji begins. 

“kei-chan!” The sound of his mother’s voice breaks through the air, he turns his head to see his mother standing a few feet away, purse clutched to her chest. she’s smiling. the kind of smile when keiji gets a good report card. 

“it’s time to go home, kei-chan”

keiji turns away from his mother, then back to bokuto. it’s quiet, the boys from the football field no longer chanting and screaming, they must’ve gone home. the sky’s painted a dark blue, when did it get so late? keiji didn’t even recall seeing a sunset today. keiji’s mother's smile widens when she notices koutarou, 

“who’s this keiji?”

before keiji could let out an answer koutarou was already on his feet, body positioned in a bow. 

“bokuto koutarou!” he grins, the gap between his front teeth standing out every so brightly. koutarou turns to keiji, still seated at the seesaw. koutaro grabs keiji’s hands, the familiar warmth engulfing keiji’s palms once again. greasy, sweaty, sand stained fingers linked together. 

“i’m keiji’s bestest friend!”

keiji’s mother smiles even wider, eyes filled adoration, keiji swears he can see tears bunching up in the corner of her eyes but he doesn’t mention it. his focus is on koutarou, whose cheeks stain a blotchy red, as he squeezes keiji’s hands. 

“well kei-chan, we should drop your bestest friend home, it’s getting quite late don’t you think bo-kun?”

his mother already has a nickname for him. predictable.

“y-yes!” koutarou beams, hand still wrapped around in keiji’s. 

keiji hops off the seesaw and trails behind his mother, bokuto at his side. koutarou nudges him, he whispers

“i’ll be the bestest best friend you’ve ever had akaashi!”

keiji squeezes koutarou’s hand.

“i’ll try to be your bestest best friend too, koutarou” 

keiji smiles.  
best friend.  
it has a nice ring to it

spring 2003, muddy trainers and scratched up knees. snot covered doraemon shirts and sand stained cargo shorts. spring 2003, keiji met his first and best friend.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading this jumble of asdfghjk snot and greasy fingers. first time writing akaashi and bokuto, how did i do? kudos and comment are much appreciated, feel free to point out on any mistakes or things i could improve on! constructive criticism is always welcome!  
> have a lovely day/night and stay safe <3
> 
> i also think bo and kaashi wouldve been like 7 or 8 in 2003, idk when they were born. 94? 95? 96? bo's hair is black in this one because i like to think that he dyed it the grey colour his roots currently are later on in his first year, hes so cute w black hair lets not lie aghh.
> 
> side note, ION EVEN LIKE KIDS AGZSHHSS FKIN HATE THEM


End file.
